Mrs. J

We met Mrs. J on a recent trip to the Saturday market in St. Johns. Javier was interested in taking pictures of people in the market and I was on the hunt for some herbs and spices to enhance my culinary endeavors.  It was in the middle of the market that we stopped to ask a vendor about a curious shaped seedpod that was among the wares she was selling. ‘Mrs. J’ was more than happy to provide us with all sorts of facts about the pod. We learned the pod is affectionately known as  ‘stinky toe’, which refers to its shape and the scent it emits when it germinates.

Mrs. J was curious about where we were from and we began a friendly banter that lasted most of 30 minutes. We learned that she worked in the Kings Cross train station in London for British Rail for 11 years followed by another 14 years in a smaller station before moving back to retire in her home island. All of her children, grandchildren and other family are still in the London area. One granddaughter is attending an excellent university there and her pride bristled when she spoke of her.

One of Mrs. J’s brothers died in England when she was in Antigua and she traveled to England for the funeral. In her suitcase were thirteen 1.5 liter bottles of Cavalier rum for the gathering after the service. Although she doesn’t drink it was imperative that she bring a taste of home for her brother’s family and friends in England. She smiled as she told of the customs officer at Heathrow who did not charge extra duty when she learned that Mrs. J had traveled from the Caribbean to bury her brother. ‘Ders good people all over dis world!” she exclaimed with a toothy grin. 

Mrs. J went on to tell of the respect and protection she garnered in her work in the stations. She would hand out a ‘bob’ to some of the young men when they came through and told her of their plans to meet a new girlfriend. One time, a shady character bought a ticket to Brixton from her and tried to swipe the money he’d laid on the counter and the ticket as well. As quick as could be, she grabbed a pair of shears she always kept handy and stabbed the would-be thief’s hand. The bleeding thief went to the station manager’s office to complain about the mad woman who stabbed innocent passengers. The manager phoned Mrs. J to hear her story and after only a moment, turned to the thief and told him to get out before the police where notified.

It felt as if we could stay all day to hear Mrs. J’s entertaining stories of her 72 years of living in Antigua, England and her visits to New York, which she proclaimed with a forthright directness, “Me no like America. Too busy. No one will stop to talk, dey all working.” We said our goodbyes and felt so glad that we were able to stop and talk with Mrs. J.

The Mane of the Lion, Removed

My neighbor, friend and colleague, Javier, the Spanish teacher has a positive, outgoing personality that one warms to instantly. Coupled with his shoulder length shock of curly sandy hair, he makes quite an impression wherever he goes. 

Javier, however, did not count on the heat being as intense here and after a month, recruited me to commit a barbarian act of barberism.  I traveled here with my own set of electric barber’s shears to manage my own meager crop as I’ve done for the past 20 years. Armed with these, some scissors and a set of pruning shears the gardener left behind I soon had Javier’s flowing crown reduced to a close-cropped ‘Number 2’.  We paused half way through the procedure to snap pictures of a Mohawk meant to give his mother a surprise. Javier shed a tear in the loss of what he had lovingly nurtured for over 12 years but smiled at the final results.

The next day at school, there were many double takes on the part of teachers and students alike. The principal almost stopped and asked him to sign in the office as a ‘visitor’.    I anxiously awaited an angry phone call from his girl friend accusing me of conspiring to strip him of his manhood but it never came.  The mane, having done its job in luring a prospective mate, is now a thing of the past and Javier is more comfortable without it. Sometimes practicality wins over vanity! 

Time for Ginnips

It is ginnip season here in Antigua and the fruit is available everywhere. Ginnips are small ovoid fruits with shiny light green skin. Ginnips ripen in clusters on a small-leafed tree that grows to 30 feet. The tree is widespread in the Caribbean and Central America and is also known as ‘mamoncillo’.  There are three layers to the fruit but only the middle layer is edible in the raw state. The outer skin is thick and somewhat brittle and easy to break with your teeth. Under the skin and surrounding the hard seed is the thin layer  of pink/orange flesh that has a subtle flavor that is mildly sweet.

 

They are sold in bunches in every roadside stand and market and hawked by children who excel at climbing the trees to harvest ginnips. On Sunday,we passed a ginnip tree and my local friends jumped out, scavenged a long stick for picking the high bunches and were up on top of Sue B’s roof rack reaching high for the ripest clusters of fruit.  I came home with several bunches and have enjoyed popping the fruit into my mouth and sucking and scraping the tasty meat off the pits with teeth and tongue before ejecting the almond sized pit. Much effort is required in eating ginnips as there is so little edible fruit per ginnip. Needless to say, ginnip jams, jellies ice cream, fruit drinks and other items made with ginnips do not exist because of the small volume of fruit per piece.    The delicate taste, however, is worth it.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Hunting for Fossils

Antigua’s geologic history is a mystery to me but in the month since I arrived, I’ve learned that some of the island is volcanic in origin; a dome of magma pushes up through layers of sedimentary rock and then, as volcanoes are prone to do, spews its nasty hot innards up and out to form new topography. As the volcanic dome emerged it brought up a ring of sedimentary rock around itself. This rock contains layers of fossil coral and other marine creatures that were laid down sometime before I was born. Geologic time scales never cease to boggle the small human brain that I possess.

 

Just across the bay from my house, there is a long rugged beach of rocks beneath steep cliffs that are stratified with layers and layers of fossils. As erosion occurs, the land gives up its bounty to the sea and the beach is littered with remnants from the past.  Michael first took me there the week after I arrived and today we piled F, N and her intrepid 7-year old triplets plus three dogs into the back of Sue B for a return trip.

 

 We fossil hunters were equipped with sharp eyes, plenty of water, some snacks and bags to carry our bounty home with. The triplets picked up many more ‘twirly whirly’ fossil shells than the adults because of their sharp youthful eyes and close proximity to the ground.  A great way to spend a Sunday morning in the Caribbean!

 

A Beach Worth The Effort

One of the nicest beaches I’ve visited so far is at Rendezvous Bay. It is a long open crescent beach rimmed by tall palms. The white sand is soft underfoot and extends 20-30 feet at a gradual incline from the waterline to a border of hardy tropical beach plants. Below the waterline, the same sand extends 50-60 feet under the water before rocks and coral start to mount up into a good sized reef that begs for further exploration with snorkel and mask.  The beach faces in a southerly direction and therefore does not get the full Atlantic swell head-on which makes for smooth swimming. 

The problem with Rendezvous Bay is that unless you have a helicopter, a boat of some sort or a Land Rover on steroids, you are faced with a 30-minute hike to get there. Now my New England friends will be saying, “A 30-minute hike is nothing! What’s he whining about?”  So here’s the rub: the sun is relentless and makes you sweat through pores you never knew existed, the conservative amount of water you packed runs out in the first 10 minutes and the trail you’re following is not marked well and follows a wicked short-scale topography and is obstructed by all kinds of nasty thorn or spike-bearing plants, trees with dripping sap that raises welts, stinging nettles, vines with razor-like leaves and fire ant nests (do NOT stop too long to suck out the last of your meager water supply when you’re near one of these dens of frantic terror because they will be happy to see you doing the “Ow! Ow! Two-Step”.)

Some of you may be getting the solution to the equation by now.   Beautiful Beach + High Degree of Inaccessibility + Adventurous Neophytes  = Zero Occupants.  After Dr. N and I survived the trek to the beach, we were awarded with a pristine expanse of sea and sand that you only see in brochures and there was NO ONE ELSE. We basked in the sun , the solitary atmosphere as well as our pride in ‘making it there’ and talked about ‘The Beach’, the Leonardo DiCaprio movie about a Shangri La-like beach in Thailand that ended up being a secluded place where drug lords reigned.

The bay’s name has its origins in an historic place where pirates, French privateers and other nefarious types would meet to exchange contraband because it was out of sight of the reigning English Navy. That history still persists today as the spot’s remote location makes it a favored spot for modern-day smugglers. We both looked over our shoulders to the verdant hillsides unmarred by house or road and wondered if we were intruding. 

After a few hours of basking, swimming and exploring, we turned our thoughts to our return trek to the car and decided it would be wise to slow the pace down a bit.  I fell into a ‘step-breathe-step’ rhythm that I perfected in the thin air of past hikes in the mountains of the Rockies, Himalaya and Andes and less suitable for walking at only 500 or so feet above a sea that glowed with the cool, inviting shades of blue and green.

Suffice to say that we survived the return trip and are excited about returning, albeit, with a better-equipped backpack! Hopefully by the time that you arrive for a visit, I will have my own helicopter or at least a small dinghy to make access a bit easier but I will guide you up and down the same trail if you’re up to it. 

Javier's Car is POSSESSED!

The door locks operate by themselves, there’s a faint image of a female face that keeps appearing in the haze of the windshield, the radio comes on under its own volition to a Spanish language channel, the battery died, the CD player keeps on spitting out CDs of strange garbled noise even though Javier is not putting any in, a door handle came off in my hand, the engine hesitates and sputters each time we pass Crab Hole Liquors and Javier thought he saw someone sitting in the driver’s seat one night when he woke up dreaming.

 

Mr. S, who sold it to Javier said the car was his wife’s and they didn’t have a need for it anymore. On the three occasions that we met with Mr. S at his house, there was no sign of a Mrs. S. We theorize that Mr. S actually murdered his wife in the car by carbon monoxide poisoning. He then disposed of the body at Devil’s Bridge where the sharks took care of the evidence and then sold the car to an unsuspecting Spaniard.  Mrs. S’s restless spirit is still in the Kia Rio trying to find peace.  Javier is looking for a priest or, at least, a devout mechanic to perform an exorcism.   PS. If you look closely at the picture, you can see that the car is levitating a half inch or so off the ground!

The Snout of the Crocodile

My neighbors here have triplets that are in second grade at the school. They live just down the hill from me so we’ve visited a few times and have gone hiking together as well.  The triplets think that the peninsula on the other side of Willoughby Bay resembles a crocodile laying in the water.  The end of crocodile’s snout is called Hudson Point and has steep rock faces that drop into the sea and are of a light colored mineral that reflects the late afternoon light in unusual ways. At this time of the year, the sun rises just over the snout and a few nights ago the moon did the same.  It is an amazing feature that never looks the same each time you see it.   

Car Shopping

Finding cars to purchase in Antigua has been an experience. Cars are really a necessity here because there is little public transportation and the roads are laid out so that if you want to explore the island you have no choice but to hitch a ride with someone or get your own wheels.    Shipping your own car into the country is not cost effective because there is a 30-40% duty taxed onto any imported goods (that includes the price of shipping too!) Bringing a left hand drive car into a drive-on-the-left country is not a good idea especially because of the frequent need to pass parked minibuses, slow moving cars, herds of goats and other obstacles on narrow, bumpy roads.  You are better off sitting behind the wheel on the right side of the car so you can see what’s coming the other way! 

 

There are many used cars that come from Japan. There is some law in Japan that says you can only have a car on the road there for so many years. After that, they must go and end up in do places like Antigua.  I’ve heard, however, that some of the resellers here change the model years so the vehicle is newer on paper.

 

 

Used cars tend to be expensive because of the duty tax that the seller may be trying to recoup. Because of the condition of the roads, used cars can also have issues with suspension, tires, steering. They are hard to find as well. The newspapers are slim on classified ads and there are few dealers. We realized that the best way to locate a vehicle was by looking at signs posted in supermarkets and asking everyone we came across. People here are always friendly and willing to help out. A shopkeeper would say hold on a minute, get on the phone and within seven minutes someone would drive up with a car for us to look at. This turned out to be comical as ‘Danny’ turned up on three different occasions, summoned by three different callers with the same car that was too expensive for our budgets. The experience was even more frustrating as everyone told us there were lots of cars to choose from because of the bad economy and the repossession of cars as fallout from the Stanford banking crisis.

 

In the end, after driving all over the island, we both found cars. Javier ended up with a Kia Rio, a small sedan, and I found a rather tattered but strong running Mitsubishi 4WD diesel pickup truck that I named Sue B as in She Be Sue or Sue Be She! 

Bougainvillea Woodshop

September 5, 2009

 

Antigua is said to have 365 beaches and I have only been to a few since I have arrived. On those visits, I’ve collected dimensional driftwood to build tables and benches for my veranda as there is plenty of deck space but few spots to sit or place a book, fossils collected at the beach or a frosty Carib beer.  An earlier foraging venture found me returning from a two-mile beach walk towing two floating bundles of recovered driftwood with rope retrieved on the beach as well. Once the desired pieces were collected and air-dried, I tossed all in the back of my new pickup, Subi, and headed over to M’s. I parked under the shade of a large Bougainvillea tree and M and I spent three hours or so with his well-equipped tool kit assembling the rough and weathered pieces that have been the trademark of my furniture making ventures.  The pieces fit the deck nicely and have a pleasing aesthetic as well.  As I write this entry, my feet are up on the new table along with a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, which I am thoroughly enjoying, and a bowl of mangoes and limes.

First Day of School

Sept. 4, 2009

My long awaited return to the classroom happened today in a brand new school building, in a country far from home, the day after a tropical storm dumped four inches of rain on the campus.  I awoke early and was one of the first teachers at the school to finish up last minute preparations. Printing documents from my laptop and making copies is a bit of a challenge compared to where I came from so more time is needed. The building weathered the storm well although runoff from the hill behind the school swept a film of bright orange clay/mud over walkways, and the playing surface. Students could not help but get a generous coating over their uniforms during recess despite all of our warnings.  The class is made up of a variety of students. Half of them are Antiguan nationals mixed with Syrian, Italian, Canadian and English expatriates.    The school day progressed well as we learned each other’s names and the-oh-so-important rules/expectations that will lay the foundation for establishing a cohesive learning community.  One of the highlights for my class was the tour of the campus. This is the first time in the history of the school that primary and secondary students are together on one campus and the mix of students from K-12 has caused concern for some parents. My students, however, did not seem intimidated by the presence of the upper classes and, in fact, secondary students offered guidance to the younger students at recess and transition times. The day soon came to a close and the usual chaos in the parking lot at dismissal time was made more challenging by the slick clay mud on the dirt access road. I returned to my empty classroom to pick up and plan for next week with a smile on my face, again, feeling that I made the right choice to be here!

Tropical Storm Erica

TS Erica            September 3, 2009

 

Tropical Storm Erica charged over the island early this morning.   Last night, just after a spectacular sunset, the sky to the southeast lit up with lightening for hours, a sign that something was approaching. Light rain started at 2 am and the wind started picking up.  At 3:30 am, the wind was whipping past the cottage around 40 mph with higher gusts. I had to get up and shut all windows tightly as the horizontal wind forced rain through the narrowest gap.  I put towels at the base of the doors to keep the water from creeping in pools across the floor. The noise of the wind combined with rain pelting the metal roof made it hard to sleep.  I tried earplugs but when the power went out and the wind blew the driveway gate open with a crash, breaking its hinges, I gave up on the idea of sleeping. 

 

I thought about packing a ‘Go Bag’ in the event Erica increased her fury and I had to skedaddle down the hill to the relative safety of J and D’s less exposed house or to the ‘bunker’ at N and P’s.  I sat up and peered out the doorway on the leeward side to witness thrashing palms lit up by continuous lightening and feel the house and hillsides reverberate with incredible thunder.  Above the din, I could hear the tree frogs calling, reveling in the cascades of falling water.

 

Luckily, the worst was over by 4:30 and I managed a few fitful hours of sleep. It is typical for most teachers to suffer from poor sleep the night before the first day of school but not because of the effects of a tropical depression!  At 6:50 am I got the call I’d been waiting for: “No school today!”  I knew that all of my students and their families had sleepless nights as well so we’ll call today a ‘rest day’.  The warm tropical rain has continued all day with no signs of stopping. At least the cistern will be topped off. 

Check out video I shot at 3 in the morning-turn up the sound!

 

 

Tropical Storm Forecast for first Day of School

Well, you've heard of snow days but here we may have a Tropical Storm Day because of TS Erica situated to the south of us and forecast to pass over the island tonight and tomorrow. Phone chain is set up and ready to go.

Image courtesy of NOAA.

Check out more here:

http://www.stormpulse.com/

Commuting to Work

The 20 minute ride from the south side of the island to school is all on small windy roads with obstacles that include speed bumps, potholes, drainage ditches, pulled over mini buses, goats, sheep, donkeys, cows and bulls. The drive passes through typical West Indian villages with simple, colorful houses and fruit stands.